At some point, I am going to have to go back through my posts and rethink what the Write posts are supposed to be. Should they be an exercise that you, dear readers, can do with me? Should they be a place for me to randomly wander about with words? Should they stick with the theme for the week? Of course, I also need to start planning ahead and getting things done sooner than the day of. :)
This month we are mostly focusing on poetry and will continue that thread until next week. Then we will decide where to go from there. Maybe I will sit down with index cards and write out exercises that we could do.
Here is this mornings offering, based on the joy I felt yesterday from planting my garden. I think the only thing that beats having fresh earth in your hands is the smell of black, fertile earth moist from the rain. Mmmm.
The bare earth,
tilled by a loving hand,
is loosened from winter's grasp
and turned into a yielding bed.
Embracing each young soul
it sings a lullaby of
questing roots and strong stems.
Each grain whispers,
calling visions of the
riches of the underworld,
promising gems and precious things
in the form of leaf and blossom.